July 2, 2015

France.

Breathing a lot of good, aromatic air here with these three lovely ladies. We were all over the moon to meet Marguerite in Nice - Colette had been dreaming of her big sister since the last round in New York. Romy lit up when she saw her. Now we are lazing about in a little village in les Alpes de Haute-Provence.

I will not lie - the voyage itself was misery. Colette was a delight on the plane - we made a little 'bed' for her on the floor and she rolled into a ball and slept until we landed. Romy, by contrast, just couldn't get comfortable - she was fitful and cried a lot. When she did sleep, she took one seat and half of both Xavier and mine, so neither of us slept that night. I don't deal well without sleep - Xavier is more resilient.

We arrived and headed to the airport car rental area in Nice, which was completely packed with people / lines for hours, crowded, hot, sweaty. We had a cart of luggage | 2 car seats, a pile. Xavier went to wait in line for the car while I stayed with Colette and Romy and bags. Colette got theatrical. She started calling out "Mommy, Mommy!" in a loud voice and in the opposite direction of where I was standing. I went over and stroked her head and said, Colette I am right here. She took off shouting "Mommy! Mommy! Where are you?" I ran after her confused. Got in front of her - Colette I am right here. She persisted: "Mommy mommy! I can't find you - where are you?!" Shouting and crying running in opposite direction. Blatantly ignoring me. Chasing through mazes of people - abandoning our luggage, bags cameras. Romy in my arms trying to chase down a lunatic three year old. She kept insisting. "Not you! You're not my real mama! Where are you mommy?" Multiple personality disorder? crossed my mind. People all around looking alarmed, worried, disdainful - depending on their culture of origin. I finally wrestled her to the ground while she shouted, "Get my papa - I want my mama!" A very compassionate Swedish woman with two bigger kids came over and pulled out a box of candy - showing it to Colette. She immediately pulled herself out of hysteric mode and brightened up, wiping away her tears and almost shaking her hair out, like - ok, good performance, let's move on now. At this point, I was in tears. Xavier arrived back to find us - baffled. What happened? Wow. Thank goodness for northern Europeans. Colette!

She has also been calling us Emilie and Xavier. One of us will go out swimming and she will call out, "Xavier!" "Xavier, bring me with you, Xavier!" Or, "Emilie, get me that bucket and shovel over there, please."

Feeling breezy now that we are properly "installed" and roaming lovely streets and fields of lavender.

3 comments:

Oh, Colette. Meredith's nephew used to pull the same moves (also about the same age and while living abroad... hmmm) Out in public he'd protest, "you're not my mom! This is not safe!" Don't teach that last line to Colette. Also: Romy's hair = the best.